Conner had, many times, done things that should have landed him in a grave, or at the very least grievously injured. Sitting in the chair while Langstrom pretended to care about filling out his paperwork, Conner became astutely aware that this, likely, was the dumbest thing he had ever done.

Langstrom put away the last of the files and got out a pressure cuff. The man looked like a zombie, expression flat and void of real human emotion. He calmly wrapped the device around Conner's upper arm. The small window in the side of the van revealed only darkness beyond and Conner felt immensely alone and suddenly vulnerable as the cuff went on.

"So tell me, Conner," Langstrom said. "You said you saw me earlier. When was that again? I can't seem to recall."

Langstrom's forced casualness wouldn't have fooled anyone. His hands fumbled as he grabbed a cotton swab and carefully began to prepare the area on Conner's arm, just beneath the cuff. It was cool.

"Just at school sir," Conner tried. "In the halls once. On stage."

"I see. That's curious because I seem to recall seeing you outside of school. I'm sure of it." Langstrom said, but his voice shook and he stared down, needle in one hand. Conner didn't like it one bit.

"I don't know what you mea-" Conner winced as Langstrom stuck him with the needle and drew in a sharp breath. "I haven't."

"Right," Langstrom muttered darkly.

Langstrom sat down in a chair beside Conner and leaned over, elbows resting on his thighs as he stared intensely at the ground. He twitched, ever so slightly, and he muttered something Conner couldn't hear. It was unsettling. Like he wasn't one hundred percent all present in the moment and Conner was stuck in the room with him, watching as his blood snaked up a tube and feeling incredibly dumb.

He shifted uncomfortably. Sitting still while the good doctor drained him of blood seemed bad but the sight of it was already unsettling him. Conner had never been one to faint at the sight of blood but even he had his limits. He didn't think yanking away right now would end great.

"...get ahold of yourself…" Langstrom's muttering continued.

Unsettling or no, Conner was stuck, at least for another few moments. He should at least try and get something out of it, he reasoned.

"Do you, um, do this a lot? The blood drive."

Langstrom's head snapped up like he'd forgotten Conner was in the room. His eyes narrowed. "I help out when I can."

"Cool. Cool. So uh, I guess you see a lot of Gotham then. Help a lot of people."

The series of expressions that crossed Langstrom's face as he looked at Conner were very hard to read. For a moment Langstrom looked desperately sad, like he wasn't seeing Conner, but something, someone else, and then there was a slow change in his eyes, a moment where Conner knew Langstrom had gone from whatever delirium had half taken him to actually seeing him. And with that realization came a dawning horror. Langstrom opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again and leapt out of his chair.

"You need to leave-" He grabbed Conner roughly, pulling at the needle stuck in his arm, pulling at the tape. "Jesus Christ what was I thinking? What was I thinking?"

Langstrom was talking to himself more than Conner again, slamming drawers and haphazardly shoving equipment aside.

"Doc-" Conner tried, sitting up.

Langstrom spun on his heel. "And you are messing with things you don't understand! You think I don't know who you are? I've seen you before. You can't lie to me! Are you trying to die? Leave. Get out."

Conner didn't have to be told twice. He stumbled out of the chair, knocking into a cabinet and throwing open the door as Langstrom doubled over, still mumbling to himself. He pushed past a nurse wearing a baffled expression and ran.

It was dark and cold and it didn't take long for the panic and heavy breathing to make his lungs burn as he turned a dark corner and found a moment's respite leaning against a rough cement wall.

He opened his eyes. He didn't remember closing them. He could see some distant streetlights. Could hear the faint sounds of traffic. His phone started buzzing violently and he fumbled for it.

"Yeah?" He said, and even to his own ears he sounded frantic.

"Conner, where are you?" Tim said.

"I-" Conner wasn't sure if it was a passing truck or in his head but a low growl reverberated through the pavement and he found he didn't want to stay in one place for very long. "So I made some terrible decisions."

He started walking towards the street he could see in the distance, banking on the visibility being a deterrent.

"So you remember Dr. Langstrom? From school?" he asked, because he may as well be useful if he was going to be stupid. The light seemed awful far away all of a sudden. He squinted. Had it been that far away before?

"No." Tim paused a beat. "I remember him from the time of death records I just went through on the hospital computers- Conner where are you?"

Conner's heart sank a little. "So he's a bit weird."

It seemed much darker than should have been natural. Like Conner's vision was blacking out at the edges. Something like the sensation that had overtaken him in Zatanna's office.

Another growl.

Conner took a deep breath. "Listen, Tim-"

Whatever he thought he was going to say, probably an apology, was rudely interrupted when someone much larger, much bigger than him, grabbed him hard by the back of his collar and yanked him out of the way. Conner hit the ground and skidded on loose gravel.

There was a shrieking scream as electricity sparked, nearly blinding Conner who had been stumbling through the dark. He scrabbled back, feeling pavement under his palms as he tried to put distance between himself and whatever was currently shedding a shower of blue sparks.

A screech, a howl, and then a tall, looming figure obscured the light show. Slowly, ever so slowly, the darkness began to fade away until the sounds of traffic, of crickets and distant planes seeped into his awareness. Instead of black, the world was painted in warm yellows and hues of indigo and grey. He risked a glance around. He hadn't gotten more than fifty yards from the hospital.

And Bruce Wayne was looking down at him looking very disappointed.

Conner was beginning to see the appeal of a butler.

He sat in what he assumed was the Waynes' dining room. There was a chandelier hanging above the cherry wood table top and three mugs of steaming coffee (and one hot chocolate) set on the table. Conner had been given a fresh pair of pajamas and swaddled in fleece blankets. Alfred had then disappeared into the kitchen and returned with suspiciously fresh cookies. All in all if Conner could convince Lex to hire a butler of Alfred's caliber maybe moving to Metropolis wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

Of course, as much as he was enjoying Alfred's professionalism, the Wayne's were decidedly less enthused. Tim sat on his left. He hadn't stopped glaring at his black coffee and he kept sneaking glances at Conner.

Jason sat on his other side. He had refused a change of clothes but accepted the coffee. Meanwhile Bruce sat across from them.

He was still dressed in his gear. Black on black on black. It looked a lot like how Conner imagined it based on movies he'd seen, but there were curiosities to it. The cowl did a lot to hide his face and create a menacing silhouette but nothing that would trick someone who knew him. Conner had to wonder how many people ever got close to Bruce Wayne or if he just didn't worry about the rich crowd he normally hung with running into him in an alley.

He also carried a lot of things Conner found kind of funny for a modern vampire hunter. The taser being one. A burner phone being another. He didn't carry a gun though or any other kind of weapon.

"We should talk."

"Gee. You think Bruce?" Jason said, voice laced with venom. Bruce did not look impressed.

"Yes. Yes I think so. What you two did was incredibly reckless. I am incredibly disappointed and there will be consequences."

To be honest, as far as lectures went it was not the worst that Conner had ever heard. Despite Bruce's grim face and the hard set line of his mouth Conner couldn't help but feel that he was more bark than bite. There was a sliver of it that reminded Conner of Lex. As it was, it wasn't Conner Bruce's dark gaze was leveled at so he sunk lower in his seat and chased a marshmallow with his tongue while listening to Jason practically explode.

"What are you going to do? Ground us? Ban us from seeing people? Oh wait-"

"Jason-"

"We can't fucking breathe in this house without being reminded of your fuck ups. We were doing good work. Tim even went to Z first."

Bruce waited patiently while Jason spoke and when Jason leaned back, looking angry but not like his outburst had done anything to ease his temper, Bruce tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.

"Are you quite finished?"

No answer. Bruce turned his eyes now on Tim. "I must say I expected this from Jason, but from you, Tim."

Tim shrank away from the reprimand. It seemed Bruce had sucked all the fight out of him with just a look. Conner watched. He felt like he should say something. Excuse himself maybe. But it seemed wrong to interrupt and he so desperately wanted to stay.

"I-"

"Don't." Jason stood. "Bruce don't you fucking dare. He's more like you than the rest of us combined and you use it against him at every fucking turn."

Bruce's face finally broke into something resembling that of a real human. A frown, and if Conner was reading it right, a flare of panic crossed his eyes before he schooled his features in a way Conner had come to recognize from spending time with Tim.

"I'm sorry. Jason, please. Let's talk."

Jason sat down, and now the anger appeared to be turning into something closer to annoyance. He turned in his seat to look at Tim. Conner leaned back feeling too large and too in the way for the moment. "Tim you have to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Bruce said and if Conner hadn't spent nearly all his free time lately with Tim he wouldn't have recognized the edge of genuine panic working its way into Bruce's voice. But he had seen behind that curtain already and as much as Bruce was trying to look like he had control, he seemed a lot more like Clark struggling to understand Facebook than he did like a competent monster hunter.

Tim, if possible, shrank even further back in the dining room chair. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

The way Tim's eyes flicked over to Conner and then settled resolutely on the embroidered placemat in front of him sent Conner's heart into overdrive.

Bruce was rubbing at his brow. He looked like he was fighting a headache. "Alright. Let's start at the beginning and try to be honest with each other this time."

"I'm going to give you a pass on the hypocrisy because this is important," Jason said, "Tim?"

Tim took a deep breath. "I, uh, applied to the accelerated compsci program. At Met U. I was going to mention it. Not that it matters I mean I wouldn't leave with things the way they are now. After tonight."

Bruce stared at Tim, expressionless but Conner could tell there was something else to this conversation. That he was missing pieces, context. He watched and waited.

Bruce looked as surprised at the unexpected pivot in topic as Conner felt but soldiered on. "That's impressive. If you go that would be guaranteed entrance into Metropolis University. Or a number of schools of your choice."

Tim nodded, relaxing slightly at Bruce's words, but it was Jason who spoke next. "MIT, Met U, Ivy University, University of Central City...Harvard I guess, but Tim said he wasn't interested."

There was an undisguised pride in Jason's voice that was funny. He was practically beaming, his excitement as evident as if he had been bragging about himself. It was strange.

"MIT's kind of a long shot," Tim said immediately, as if to assuage some unspoken worry.

"Of course you can get into MIT." It spilled out before Conner could stop himself. He had been stupid to think Tim would want him. Tim was like Roxy and Tana. People like them didn't wait around for people like Conner. They went out and went to fancy schools and became people who mattered .

He couldn't hear anything that wasn't his own heart. Tim looked like he was struggling to find what words to say but Bruce spoke first.

"I assume you've been thinking about this for a while?"

"I," of all people Tim looked at Jason. When Jason nodded he continued. "Yeah. I have."

Bruce looked thoughtful. Then he turned to Jason. "Why don't you show Conner to a guest room for the night, I'm sure he's tired. And then come back. I think the three of us have a bit to discuss."

Conner didn't protest but he did look back to see how Tim was doing as he was led away. Tim didn't look up.

"Sorry about tonight." Jason had said while showing him to the same guest room Conner had used before. "We'll catch up tomorrow."

Conner wondered if that was true or if Jason or Tim would be dragged away or sworn to secrecy or something. But he didn't voice any of that. He was tired and couldn't stop thinking about Tim.

He dragged himself to bed. The comforter was warm, fresh from the dryer. He sighed and once again found himself thankful to Alfred.

It had been foolish, this little crush of his. After all people like Tim didn't go for people like Conner. In movies maybe. But in real life dumb jocks with no options didn't get the pretty smart nerds. Pretty smart people, people like Tana and Tim, they wanted things that Conner had never been able to give.

And not for the first time he wondered if the reason he couldn't have those things, be those things, was just because he was too stubborn to accept that Lex was right after all.

It was the irrational need to to prove that people still wanted him, still reached out to him, that lead him to check his phone. He wanted to see proof that Roxy hadn't forgotten him. Proof that Tim and Lex and Clark all existed.

He had six missed calls.

He didn't even bother checking his voicemail. He dialed Clark immediately.

"Conner?"

"Hey Clark."

"Conner where are you? What is going on? Why didn't you-"

"I'm at the Waynes' house. Can I stay the night?" Conner felt like a piece of shit for asking. But it was better Clark thought Conner was a shitty irresponsible teenager than guess the truth.

"I...yes I'm just. Conner I was worried."

You don't deserve this.

"I'm sorry Clark. My phone was on silent. I just forgot."

"It's a school night."

"I know. It's just tonight. Please Clark?"

"Fine. It's fine. Can we just…not do this again? Please? I know you're young but my old man heart can't take it."

Conner managed a weak smile.

"I promise Clark," he lied. "Just so you know Alfred gave me fresh pjs and hot chocolate and everything. They're taking care of me."

"That's good. I mean obviously I could never compare to Alfred so I understand why you felt the need to go over there again."

There was a beat of silence. Conner wasn't sure what Clark was doing on the other end. Had he been up all night, pacing the living room in worry? Had he been asleep at last when Conner called?

It didn't matter. But Conner didn't want to hang up yet. It felt too much like things were slipping through his fingers. He wanted to hold onto Clark for as long as he still had him. Even if it was all a lie.

"Hey Clark. Where did you go to school?"

"Hmm? Well Smallville-"

"I mean college."

"Oh! Metropolis University. Great journalism program. Why?"

"I guess I was just wondering. How did you decide on journalism?"

There was a shuffling from Clark's end of the phone. "Oh you know the same way everyone does I guess. Wandered through life aimlessly until I found something that I was the right amount of good at that I also enjoyed. I actually helped run the student paper in Smallville. I think once I realized the storytelling side of it all I couldn't stay away. It's part of what I still like about it."

"I'm not really good at anything like that." Conner said.

"That's not true Conner." Clark sounded too much like a real parent all of a sudden. "I mean you have football."

His gut twisted. He only played football in a half assed attempt to show Lex he was trying. Just another thing that wasn't his, that he didn't actually enjoy.

"I guess. I don't think it's the same."

"Are you ok Conner? What brought this on all of a sudden?"

Conner played with a loose thread in the sheets, winding and unwinding it just to have something to do with his hands. "I guess I was just thinking."

"Well if you want, we can sit down and look at some schools this weekend. Maybe looking through the majors will give you some ideas?"

Conner didn't know when he had started crying but he rubbed at his eyes now and tried to keep his voice level. "Sure Clark. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Conner. I love you, I hope you know that."

Conner hung up.